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Thursday, February 16, 2017

Now, I know what you’re going to
say – there’s a support group for that. Or – practice makes perfect, you just
have to do it more in order to get better! Or – me either, I’m introverted,
dadgummit! I hear your eyes rolling.

Sidebar: introversion as a special
problem is over. The entire internet is for introverts. It’s not so special.
Let’s find something else to discuss.

Anyway, about public speaking: I’m
no stranger to it. I’ve had to present information to groups, make speeches, give
instructions to a crowd, pray, teach classes, and even act in a play before,
and every time it’s just a disaster. I panicked and stuttered during my own wedding
vows. Sometimes I’ll even go blank in conversations when I notice that someone
is really listening to what I am saying.

When speaking publicly, I sometimes
feel nauseated, experience heart palpitations, sweat profusely, and have
ringing in my ears, among other pleasant symptoms. Later, I’ll replay the
scenario over and over and cry into my pillow because of my cringeworthy uselessness.

For many years I’d balk at
speaking in public when asked, and turn people down easily and graciously. It’s
just a train wreck, I’d explain ever so nicely. You don’t want me up there. My
incompetence will distract from the real message. I’m not your girl.

But then after a while, I noticed
that people don’t care how stupid I am in public. I am my
own worst enemy; most people don’t notice that I’m ridiculous, and if they
do, they're either too embarrassed for me to mention it or else I’m making them feel better about their own inflated yet unquestionably mediocre
ability to kill it onstage.

And I also realized that if I
speak from the heart, and don’t worry so much about how I’m perceived – even if
half the room thinks I’m terrible – who cares? Most people are too polite or don't care enough to tell a person that they stunk up the room, and by the way, I’m not accepting a Nobel
prize, and most of the world doesn’t hear those speeches anyway because the
people who win those prizes are a bunch of nerds.

JUST KIDDING NOBEL PRIZE WINNERS.
Jeez, sensitive much?

So, with that in mind, I’m totally
taking public speaking offers. Yes, you heard that right. For an exorbitant fee,
of course. I still get the nervous sweats, and I’m not dealing with that for
free.

So if you want someone to mess up
your event with a lackluster and possibly embarrassing address (because not
only do I tend to freeze up, but I may also swear and/or share inappropriately), I’m your girl.

If you need someone around to fill
the seat at the table for someone who says wildly inappropriate things that
distract everybody from real life, so that they go home and wonder “how drunk was she?” instead of lamenting their own poor
choices, I’m there.

If you need someone to stand in
front of a crowd and make them feel better about every single vulnerability
they own because she is up there making a nincompoop of herself by forgetting what
planet she hails from, call me.

Because I SPEAK FROM THE HEART.

Sure, sometimes my heart says
weird and improper things, blanks on common words and phrases, forgets how to
pronounce my own name, and drops whole storylines and directions of
conversation, but hey, it’s my heart talking. I dare you to tell me my heart is
wrong.

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

I mean, I purchase things to give at the
holidays and on birthdays and other important gift-giving events, but giving
and receiving gifts is not really a source of joy for me.

And truthfully, sometimes I’m not that great at
giving or receiving gifts on these big gift-giving events.

Exhibit A: The time I didn’t even think about
buying a gift for someone and they lavished me with perfect gifts and I felt
like Super Jerk.

Exhibits B-Z: All those other times that
happened.

Let’s examine some other gift-giving catastrophes,
shall we?

àOnce I got a gift for someone
– something that they actually asked for – and they never used it.

àOnce I received a gift that I
asked for but didn’t use.

àOnce I gave a gift that
was too much/too little/inappropriate/and the recipient didn’t get it.

àOnce I received a gift like
that^^

àOnce I told someone I was
going to get them a very specific gift and then I bailed out on it and didn’t
get them anything and I will never hear the end of it until I die.

àOnce I got a gift that I
loved for an anonymous exchange and everybody in the room made fun of it and it
took everything in me not to stomp out of the room crying.

Can’t we all just buy ourselves what we want?
Or only give anonymously to people we don’t know so that we don’t have to watch
them open the gifts we give and stress out about their reactions?

You guys, gifting stresses me out. There are so
many variables, and only one precarious set provides a small sliver of positive
outcome. You know, that perfect gift for that perfect person in your life who
absolutely without a doubt will love whatever it is you’ve come up with.

It doesn’t happen very often.

So I made a gift guide to help you with this
problem of gifting. And when I say you
I really mean me.

Perfect gift #1: Cash.

Cash is a gift, people. IT IS A GIFT. No one
receives cash and goes home and says “Now what on earth am I going to do with
this?”

Perfect gift #2: Gift Cards.

Gift cards are a non-cash way of giving cash as
a gift for those people who think that giving cash as a gift is tacky. Some
people also think that giving gift cards is tacky. I am not friends with those
people.

Perfect gift #3: Something that a person sent you a link to and said “I
want you to buy this for me.”

No guesswork at all is the way to go with
gift-giving. This is my absolute favorite way to shop for someone if cash and
gift cards are off the table, and the next type of perfect gift is a close
runner-up.

Perfect gift #4: Something that someone buys for him- or herself and
says “I’m buying this for myself, but you can give it to me.”

You sort of feel like a shlub for not doing any
work whatsoever, but it’s worth it if they also wrap that gift up for
themselves or don’t require it to be wrapped at all because they’re using it
right away.

Perfect gift #5: Registered gifts.

There is something just so satisfactory about a
gift list that someone has made public, so that when you shop for this person,
all the things they want are right there. General gift lists are okay, but give
me a printed out store registry list of specific stuff that a person wants and
I’m a happy gift-buyer. Bonus if shipping is free and I don’t even have to
handle the item.

Perfect gift #6: Everyday items.

This is a little more work, but I love giving
and receiving basic items that everyone uses but runs out of on a regular
basis. Things like aluminum foil,
sandwich bags, condiments, dried spices and even shampoo and soap are great gifts, and best
of all you can throw them into your grocery cart when you stop at the store on
your way out to pick up the milk.

Perfect gift #7: Time together.

I love it when you can get together with people
and call it a gift. “No gifts; let’s just go out to dinner!” is music to my
ears, and the person who shows up with a wrapped gift even after hearing (or ::whispers
hatefully:: uttering) those words is
dead to me.

Perfect gift #8: Nothing at all.

Sometimes giving gifts takes away from the real
gift, which is living life together. I personally have everything I need and want,
and I’d rather enjoy life than take time to open a bunch of stuff that I’m
going to be paying a bill for later anyway. I know this seems a mite insincere
since I will always have my hand out for jewelry and diamonds, but I’d rather enjoy my friends and family than open gifts any day of the year.

Thursday, February 2, 2017

If you told me twenty years ago
that I’d become a mother, I would have laughed in your face.

Because I was rude, but also
because twenty years ago, I didn’t want kids.

I didn’t even like kids all that
much.

Like every woman, as a teenager I was
a pro babysitter. Watching kids is the thing to do when you’re too young for
a side hustle like slinging cocktails. I had a kid brother and kid cousins and family
friends with kids that were always looking for a babysitter, so I obliged for
some cold hard cash in return for watching their TV kids whineeat
junk foodpound on each other while the parents escaped for a few
hours on the odd Saturday night. But it wasn’t my favorite activity.

But twenty years ago, when I was a
single gal, footloose and fancy free, I had long conversations with friends
about how much I didn’t want kids because kids are terrible.

Yeah. That’s about as far as my
reasoning went for not wanting kids. It’s fair to say that because I didn’t have kids, it was easy enough to say I
didn’t want kids.

Then my husband and I had kids.

I was for it, of course. I mean,
the timing of our kids wasn’t planned, but we agreed that we’d try them out for
a while.

And it just so happened that I am
a pretty good mom. And my kids are pretty amazing because of me. Hey, you think
I’m going to give them all the credit for being awesome? Okay, my husband had
something to do with it, too. But still. I’m a kick-ass mom.

Might as well say it myself,
because they sure won’t.

So, yeah. I am pleasantly
surprised by how much I enjoy being a mom. Take THAT, twenty years ago me! IN
YOUR FACE! HA HAHA HAHAHA HA!

I guess some things don’t change.

Here are the top ten things I love
about motherhood:

1. I can do this.

A person needs no special training
or skill to be a mother. It’s scary how utterly unprepared people really are
for parenthood. It’s on-the-job training every second of every day. It’s flying
by the seat of your pants and making it up as you go along. When people say “We’re
not ready to have kids yet” I love to squash their spirits and inform them that there
is no planning for this. You’re never ready, and you either do it or you don’t.
And when you do it, it’s the best feeling ever.

2. These nerds.

Yeah. I pretty much love the spit
out of them. Seriously – they can spit on the ground and I would love that
spit. BUT THEY BETTER NOT EVER DO THAT BECAUSE SPITTING ON THE GROUND IS GROTESQUE
AND I DID NOT RAISE DISGUSTING ANIMALS WHO SPIT ON THE GROUND.

3. It’s a challenge.

One of the weirdest things I love about
motherhood is how difficult it is. Once you are in it you can’t escape it, and even
though I totally look for the easy way out of nearly everything, I do not cut
corners at being a mom. I love all the difficult conversations and the teen
years and defusing tantrums because this stuff is important. I will work
tirelessly to help my kids do or learn something, and it’s because their lives
are worth my best.

4. The food.

Having kids around all the time means
that you eat chicken nuggets and candy and pudding and cupcakes as part of a
regular diet and not feel like you have to justify your preferences. Kraft mac
and cheese has had our number for years, and I am more than okay with this.

5. The TV.

Cartoons make anybody feel like a
kid again. Not too many adults will watch Spongebob on a random Thursday
afternoon on their own without kids around, and this is too bad. I believe that
Spongebob can be better than therapy.

6. You are always teaching.

When I was in grad school I wanted
to be a professor, and as luck would have it I got to teach undergrads. This was a terrible experience. Those cats knew they were smarter than me
and weren’t afraid to let me know how low my effectiveness ranked on the list
of educators they had known. They didn’t give me a chance, and I knew then that
I was no teacher. But with my kids? I’m the first teacher they knew and they
STILL look to me to teach them. Getting your students early is where it’s at.

7. You are always learning.

I’ve learned more being a mother
than all the years I spent in school, which is a bold statement and one that I
dare you to try to quantify. Being a mother has taught me practical wisdom, like
how long a person needs to transition from sitting on the couch playing video
games to getting in the car to go somewhere (two minutes), but also problem-solving
skills, like if you have a kid who zones out while playing video games, revving
up the car engine while honking the horn to get them moving works pretty darn
well.

8. Personal improvement.

I was a jerk before I had kids,
and I’m marginally less of a jerk now. Having kids made me want to be a better
person, because now I have people who I am casting into the world who watch me
like the spongy little hawk-eyed humans they are. Do I want them to be jerks on
top of them being horribly disfigured? No, I don’t. I shaped up when I had kids,
and everybody is happier. Especially me.

9. The surprise factor.

When my kids walk in the door after school with a cool story, or talk about something they learned, or sing along to an old song that I love but didn’t know they
also loved, or share their opinions about anything, I am surprised at their
sense of humor, what they know, what they think, and what they can do – as if
they are new people every day. Literally, I say “Who are you? I don’t know you –
go away, stranger, or I’m calling the cops!” because I love to mess with my
kids. Which brings us to the last point I’d like to make.

10. Having kids is fun.

SO MUCH FUN. Having fun is my
deal, and they are my favorite people to joke with, to laugh with, and to play
with. My kids are fun people. They get my sense of humor, and I love theirs. I
know it’s because they learned from me, and I’m in love with this.